Ek song ko suna...

 Explicating figures of speech to students who love to hate poetry is always an experience that you sometimes feel you would not like to assign to your worst enemy. The youth(fool) language today is as bald as the bed of a river in the scorching summer months. The social media, often their place to be and never not to be, is excellent, if at all, at banality. The Wapp University has many departments for sure. Even the world wide gurudom there refuses to touch poetry with a barge pole! What to expect then  of the dedicated disciples?

Yet simile can somehow be simplified. Robert Burns'"My love is like a red, red rose", the eternally best example, is indeed a gem of a poem. You can not only extend it to  add examples of the 'metaphor' easily, you can moreover let it bloom into a symbol. Whether or not the days and the week dedicated to 'love mania' are in the full bloom, they instantly get the colour (yellow, pink, red) symbolism.

Images are tough to trace indeed. Perception, the human activity involved, is a bother to begin with.  Explaining the five senses can drive you senseless. My panacea to overcome this dis-ease is the song "ek ladki ko dekha". It is a brilliant series of lovely images. Let me look at an example or two, and leave you to explore the rest. " sandal ki raat", for instance, captures the  beloved's dusky beauty, her uniqueness, her fragrant and rare presence, while "mandir me ho ek jalata diya" captures her illuminated persona, her soft, pure gentleness. As the first example appeals to the eyes and nose, you can thus readily and easily explain the visual and the olfactory images. The second example I have referred to explains the spatial and the kinetic imagery as well. And the explication can go on, without any boredom setting in. In fact, often, they join in the process, too. Whosoever said, Bollywood buries brains of its addicts? At times, Bollywood blooms the best!

Pratima@Aai-Papa's generation, a little wary of R.D's rhythm/felt, in this song, music he could fathom!

They taught me!

 In the Times of India, there was this news item about blind students studying German. That reminded me of the batch of visually impaired students who studied Spanish with me at the BMCC  Language Lab. It was indeed a unique experience in multiple ways. Indeed, they, too, taught me many aspects of the learning, and, living, too, process.

First and foremost, their attentiveness was fabulous. Spanish apps were not available then. My voice was their only means to Spanish wor(l)ds. They literally used to hang on to my words. Their attention used to be so intense that they literally used to remember every word. One of them, Raju, used to quote page number, line number,too! It humbled me to no end, made me still more responsible as a teacher.

What I appreciated the most about them was their joyousness. They used to participate in every college activity most enthusiastically. I still remember the way they had all dressed up for the Traditional Day. They had come to the Language Lab  specially to show me their unique attires, and their happiness, when I praised them, was sky high. 

They were hyper independent. Together, they would navigate the toughest road. If I praised them for that, they would narrate their encounters of the scariest variety with a laugh. Laughter was their USP. They had affairs, heartbreaks, silly and not so innocent gossip, too. Typical teenagers!

They taught me to be still more sensitive. Let me give you an example. I was teaching the passport, its structure/format/details. There was this entry "color de ojos"/colour of eyes. The batch was an inclusive one. The other students came up with prompt answers, black to blue! Then one of those visually impaired girls suddenly said, " Do eyes have to have colours? There is only dark black in front of us!" That goosebumps experience taught me to be still more sensitive and subtle in my choice of language assignments. Similarly, they told me of the horrible questions they were often asked by the so-called-normal people. I loved the way they used to fight for their rights. 

That batch taught me how to be grateful for so many of the positivities of the 'nomal' life granted to us gratis. Most of all, what I learnt in depth was  how never ever to "other", the backbone of literary theory even today! No wonder, I continue to love the "blind" feel!

Pratima@eyesight is not vision!

Auto-correct?

 The blog today deals with a curious phenomenon my blogs often face. Well, every blog entry I publish, I check it a lot while writing it itself. Later, I cross-check it twice to avoid any error of grammar, usage, or the likes. Yet often when I re-read it later, some mistakes I never made often creep in!

Creepy indeed. It is clear some silly soul(!?!) who thinks no end of himself/herself is up to this arrogant stupidity. With technology, such interference is getting easier by the second. How mean and stupid though! Why correct someone else's stuff when your own language is nonexistent! Such creeps make me laugh, and, no, I do not get irritated. Not in the least!

Well, as I am personally not in love with myself, I write the blog, and forget it. Now I shall doubly cross-check it the next day, too. In a way, this meddlesome busybody thus makes me and my writing better because now I would read my blogs again and again which out of humility, out of the decision to never stand on one's laurels, big or small, I always avoided so far. The trouble monger is thus going to help me to be my own trouble shooter. 

I would thus re-visit my blogs repeatedly which would be good for me and my blogs. Thank you, anonymous meddlesome fool for making me wiser!

Pratima@let your worst enemy be your neighbour, says Tuka, coz thus you get a chance to work on your faults and blemishes!

Animal Cruelty

 On a women's group was shared this most moving video. It was about animals. It had truly touching visuals, of a gorilla trapped, going mad in a cage, a calf mooing most pitifully when seperated from its mother, for instance. Nobody likes a pig. The video, however, of a fully grown pig shivering with fear just outside the abattoir in indeed tear jerking.

 The entire video makes you feel happy that you are a pure veg. Once by a roadside selling poultry, I saw the ultimate cruelty meted out to the poor fowl, and it continues to give me nightmarish feelings even some ten years later.

Yet I feel that to think  a person is  very kind, generous  and gentle if/because he/sh loves animals is wrong, too. There are animal lovers who are very harsh and exploitative with human beings! Complex are the ways of men and women.  Yet no harm praying for animals either!

Pratima@Cruelty to animals is indeed bad/hypocrisy beneath it is truly sad!

Epistles felicitous

 Exactly eight months ago, Aai left us forever. Thereafter, there has not been a moment I have not remembered her. It is no different for Papa. His sad demise was in 1999. Yet every month on 21, I keep a fast in his memory. No, I am not talking about myself. For sure, not!

The issue I am trying to 're-solve' within myself is who exactly are these mnemonic epistles addressed to? Would there be somewhere in this infinite universe some place, some time as an entity where they would be, at least as an atomic existence,  wherein these intense prayers for them, memories from the bottom of my soul and celebrating all that was best in them, would reach? A part of me says, yes, indeed!

In a way, it is like sending out messages, letters in this vast internet wo(r)ld. Some contact somewhere it makes that I am absolutely unaware of, and yet these words, these epistles of mine would mean something for/to that unknown reader in his her own way. When I think of the entire semiotics of the process, of the complex communication process involved, it makes me feel full of wonder.

There is yet a part of me, the doubting Thomas , the eternal to mean or does it Hamlet within me, that seems to ask me if this is a subtle self-indulgence. True, after the demise of Aai-Papa, within the thirteen days, and beyond, I HAVE experienced their presence, and, no, it was NOT a delusion born out of grief, despair and a sense of eternal loss. I am, moreover, of the opinion that in this infinite existence, there are zillions of unexplored sites/sights not yet explored/fathomed. Hence I never pooh-pooh any feel just because my paradigms do not explicate them. Well, in brief, here is hoping that my heart felt epistles to them both, saying that they continue to be deeply loved, reach them, where ever they are, bring them a little more contentment, a forever feel of happy peace!

Pratima@months may pass years by-n-by/to keep your serene memories alive let me forever try!

Efforts is all!

 I was to teach techniques for interviews in English this afternoon to graduating Law students from a rural college in Chattisgarh. I wanted them to realise that getting  a job is not a finished product. Rather it is a process fraught with lots of efforts.

To clarify my point, I gave them an example. I said that any fruit, when ripe, just falls down, and, if you are lucky, right in to your extended palms. Human achievements are not that easy, not so effortless. We are wired to work hard from the moment of our birth, from the days of our forefathers staying in caves. We are hence bound to a sincere effort, whatever comes, whichever may be the field.

Indeed, spiritual to social, all domains require hard work, sincere efforts. I believe, moreover, that efforts must be smart,too. In the world today, for example, the basic knowledge of computers is indeed necessary. Using  computers, moreover, would bring lots of actual rewards, too,  and, oh, that indeed is my point. Efforts is indeed all!

Pratima@efforts en-light-en  indeed!

Are they or are not they?

 To my blog yesterday, there was a rather angry response. This bitter response was by a senior professor, herself a parent. The argument of the lady was that the Young these days are responsible, too, for the "uncertain future".

What was the thrust of her complaint? Her basic argument was that the children from the  Upper Middle class household are super lazy, arrogant, self centred. Forget thinking of the rest of the world, they do not even bother about the immediate family. Even if you spoon feed them with lots of knowledge, they refuse to study. They are stupid, but aggressive and over confident. They think that the Google Guru has all the answers. And, blah, blah, blah!

My response? It is multi-layered. First, I would like to put on record the fact that there are multiple exceptions to the rule Ma'am was referring to. Beyond my immediate family, I have my past as well as present students who are highly responsible, sensible, sensitive young people who care abundantly and  genuinely for others, and for values. Nor are they hypocrites. There is a forthright frankness about them. They respond to honest sincerity.

My second point is that who makes them thus, the way Ma'am was referring to, or who is responsible for the careless heartlessness of the young? I would say, the adults. Students who see teachers with a low fund of knowledge, absolute lack of sincerity, without much responsibility or empathy, why would they respect such elders? 

In the family fold, too, if they grow up watching eternally bickering parents, tearing each other apart right in front of the young one(s), listen-in-g to a mother who dishonours, insults, belittles, plots against the in-laws (whom the child(ren) may adore) for no rhyme nor reason, observing elders who gossip and/or watch meaningless serials and t.v. programmes, who have no themes/topics for discussion beyond films, fashion, food, in such a bleak scenario, who is to be blamed?

They live, moreover, in a hugely inter-netted world. A constant deluge of information about everything from everywhere is drowning them. They are hence not naïve. The innocence of their vision is also taken away from them while they watch the inane serials along with the elders or by the comics they are (made) addicted to. 

They are, moreover, 'given'(!??!) Freedom, but are they introduced to discipline and the sense of responsibility that comes along with it? Indulging a child, I believe, is constantly communicating with him/her, talking/listening to him/her, not merely splurging money in an orgy, which would merely increase the consumer base of all sorts of TNC's!

Finally, given the limitations of space in a blog, and the attention span of a typical reader, may I conclude that ideal children require the i-deal treatment. No wonder, even in mythology, there was only one Arjuna amongst so many siblings and cousins! Old problem, in brief, in search of new remedies, right? Hence the title of the blog today!

Pratima@our children are our reflections, not  to forget the refractions!

An uncertain future

 The youngsters today in the age group of  fifteen to thirty five are in extremely difficult, tough,trying contexts. Let us first define the inner/outer boundaries. It is around fifteen that the world enters viciously in the cocooned existence of the typical upper middle class Child. Nam to suna hi hoga! The board exams! Till that point, the educational system may not even have prepared the teenager properly for this trying trumpery. To this sense of inadequacy are added the changes, physical and psychological, induced by the hormonal changes.  Life becomes confusion confounded! 

Why thirty five? Due the fast advent of the Digital/AI revolution, the traditional notion of a permanent job is already evaporating in to thin air. Job hopping, a total change of careers/life goals, a dentist becoming a translator or a C. A. being a content developer,  are extremely common. The jobs are very few,moreover. 

The traditional 'relationships as a bolster' kind of support is disabled or it is sacrificed at the alter of event-baazi. Break-up's, separations, divorces, quite common currently, add to the constant tension. The personal is no longer pink, while the pink slip every Friday kind of American system is absolutely spreading its tentacles.

What are the ways out? Psychological hygiene in the form of yoga, dhyan can boost the emotional immunity, while up skilling constantly is the panacea indeed.Developing mentor relationships in both personal and professional contexts could help, I suppose. The most common important method,however, has to be the genuine friendship with one's own self! Humour helps a lot indeed. Troubled times need tough tactics!

Pratima@passively pray, actively reach out has to the strategy of those who care for the youngsters

Marriage or wedding

 Words used loosely can create unintended humour. There was this groom who wanted a bride. The advt, however, which he posted read, "wanted a wife". He apparently was drowned in a deluge of "take mine" messages! In the Post Truth world today, it is indeed difficult to ascertain the veracity of this 'event' which, however, points out two pertinent truths, namely, there are not any exact synonyms, and that every term has its own unique subtle shade of meaning.

The other point this p.j. makes, however dull, is not all so very stupid, nor exactly oh-so-very laughable either. These days, there are weddings galore, but how about marriages?

Weddings these days are an absolute event, and are thus managed. Be it the town, city or metro, beyond caste or creed, weddings have turned upside down the ancient paradigm of the "at least five days long" weddings of yesteryears. There is haldi, mehendi, and, oh, yes, sangeet wherein professional dancers train the future couple and all their relatives to groove to rather cheesy Bollywood songs! The bride may dance to "badnam hui"! The so-called bachelor's parties are riots of most all bad habits, and vices. No better are the bride's girlie parties. Why should boys have all the fun, they say, in a very aggressive way. Poor feminism! Rituals are not spared either. The actual muhurat mattereth  not in the game of " up-liftin" the bride and the groom whose shoes go missing, too.

Garish glitzy sarees, gaudy, often, imitation jewellery, glinty phetas and pagari's, all of it looks very 'shining' in video shoots and endless selfies. Bollywood, like the McDonald-isation, is the ultimate leveller indeed

In such weddings, most all miss the marriage. The marriage of true minds is mostly a poetic impossibility now, I suppose. Marriage of conventions and  convenience is now showcased in a gilded way as the event that costs a lot, and values nothing!

Pratima@why worry, nay, marry/wedding is trending!

Television Tales

 Why this title? Is that what you are saying? Well, today, that is, November 21, is the World Television Day. A day, I would indeed say, that is genuinely important in the Post Truth world today.Just look around us. Every (non)issue gets blown out of proportion. Never ever is there the complete truth,as much is available, as much as is possible then and there, that is, accessible/possible. Given the prevalence of and easy access to the social media, the public space is full of opinions. Hence the credibility of the television becomes an important issue.

Given the ubiquity of the social media, even the concept of a citizen journalist is passé. Right now, everyone with a multimedia mobile is an expert, in fact, a university each. Almost matching the quality of most all educational institutions (honorable exceptions, if any, to exclude themselves from this generalisation, of course) is the Whatsapp or Facebook University! Given such unfortunate contexts, a public audio-visual medium can/should perform the role of the public intellectual. 

May be, the corporatised TV is dedicated to "entertainment, entertainment, entertainment"! May be, even the debates subtly follow this pattern. Yet indirectly they do create a civil society, albeit not full throttle. The national TV may lack the funding, but their production values and truth quotient are better and more reliable.

The television can be a great educational tool as the EMRC programmes prove. During the pandemic, too, for the disenfranchised, it was often the only solace as Balbharati used to be once upon a long lost time.Though mostly it is " sound and fury/signifying nothing ", this is hoping to say, on the world television day, that the television would continue yo be of/by/for the people.

Pratima@let television lead to wide vision

The eternal feel

 With great technological advances and modern techniques, great pictures emerge as far as wildlife photography goes. Often I love to look at such pics.

What is remarkable, however, is the fact that the modernity of the mode/form is a vehicle for the feelings and emotions as ancient as ever. What is truly noteworthy , moreover, is the fact that even in the animal world, the eternal feel continues forever.

Of the best ten pictures in that series, there was this absolutely brilliant underwater picture of a mama otter teaching her baby to swim. The mother's stern  expression, yet her concerned worry about the baby's safety, the love felt in her tender hug, the baby otter's fearful curiosity, the entire emotional drama, is beautifully captured in the brilliantly superb photo. 

It reminded me of Aai's favourite most story, Raju's first day at the school. We were both sent to school early. So he was very small, never had lived even a moment away from her. The teacher apparently told her to let go of his hand, and go away. He started crying hugely. The teacher kept on telling her to go back home, and not even look back. Every step away from him was a punishment. Yet it had to done. The pic had the same motherly bitter-sweet expression.

Yet another lovely snap depicted two squirrels playing away to glory, lost to the rest of the world. The pic captures beautifully one twirling in the air upside down, and the other expectantly looking on to join in on the fun. Like two kids absorbed in to the make believe world of their joy filled game!

The most touching one, however, dealt with pain, the real eternal feel all species share forever. It revealed our Darwinian forefather, the eternal clown of the Green, with such hurt expression in every pore of his body wounded by some human contraption that I understood why artists, especially poets, are forever right, captured as the snap did the feel of the best songs being born of the bitterest sobs!

Pratima@ eternal emotions, forever art!

The Real Man

 November 19 is indeed a unique day. Well, it is the International Men's day. During the supposedly  post feminist era these days, the usual discussion on a day devoted to men sounds superfluous. Not in my opinion. Currently it is indeed much More needed, in fact.

Why? Because I believe that this 'not commercialised as yet' day can be used to enlist supposedly the essential qualities of the much maligned 'Man'. Who indeed is  the real man? The macho Man? Certainly not. A Man with toxic masculinity? Of course, absolutely not. The Spider Man!?! He looks fine in the comic( s) pages alone! Is he the  richie-rich chappie? Certainly not.

The real Man is first and foremost okay with himself. He does not need to flaunt anything, neither his brains, nor his achievements, nor his accomplishments, and certainly not his wealth , even when gotten honestly. He is certainly perfectly comfortable in his own skin. He hence needs no trophy girl to flaunt. 

Beauty is skin deep, he knows. With the modern cosmetic advancements, it is very, very easy to look good, is the universal truth he is aware of. So the usual trappings of success hardly matter.

He is honest with himself and his close ones, for sure. He does not mind sharing household work. He may not change the nappie expertly, but he is ready to learn because he loves the Baby. He is, in brief, okay with the feminine, gentle, soft, mature side of himself. 

Equally ready he is to accept others' self assertions, be it the children or the wife. Extremely supportive, he never allows anybody to insult anyone of his close ones. Neither his wife, nor mother nor sister(in-law), nor his in-(c)laws traditionally at loggerheads  supposedly with each other, but actually with him, right?

A good guy, he may not gossip about politics, but would be active in the 'polis' duties of multiple varieties. A Good guy who is not a goodie-goodie, but ready to work on himself! Let us celebrate him on a day when a well-known leader cried openly in public because his wife was humiliated. What a genuine day indeed that breeds hopes for a (wo)Man made India!

Pratima@ Papa was such a Man, I think. In those days, looong, long ago, he chose to stand for his wife's respect in the family circle, was a wonderful father, and an ideal in his dreary profession.

Ekam Sat

 Say the Vedas, "ekam sat, vipra: bahudha: wadanti." What does it mean? Loosely translated, the Sanskrit verse means "truth is eternally the same, whereas the wise ones enunciate it differently". 

Indeed it is so. Tomorrow is the Guru Nanak Jayanti. So many of the Gurubani principles echo the ancient Vedic  axioms and reverberate with the mediaeval Bhakti movement notions. No wonder, Sant Namdeo, a close associate/disciple and friend/soulmate of Sant Dnyandeva and  a pillar of the Warkari panth, is revered in Punjab, too.

All the religions, for instance, believe in  "simran", the "nam jap", the constant remembrance of the Lord, the eternal chanting of the holy name of  the God . Each religion and every subsect advocates " kirat karo", that is, lead a life of honesty and piety through a living earned without any exploitation or fraud. 

The number of sins may differ, but this difference in quantity cannot overlook the fact that the basic sinfulness consists of an impossible amalgam of ego, anger, greed, lust, attachment, for instance, as the evil incarnate.

Similarly, most all religions believe in the Guru as the guide who leads us along the right path with   the truth as the ultimate destination.  So many, in fact, are the echoes of each other in every religion that one wonders their followers fight each other.

Indeed, yes, that is another reason why  I revere the memory of Aai-Papa. They brought us up to respect everybody. My Christian friend, Maria, visited us at the time of Diwali. I went to her place for Christmas. I had friends of all sects and religions. We were never ever brought up as boastful Brahmins. 

Indeed, we were made to believe that first and foremost we were Indians. Just as Aai-Papa celebrated all the traditional festivals with zest and enthusiasm, the national days were followed with verve, too. Why, every Independence Day, each Republic Day, on each Tilak, Bhagat Singh, Gandhi, Nehru Jayanti, we had to participate with thorough preparation in essay/elocution competitions not only in the school, but also at home, amongst the three of us. 

Now that "identity politics" debates are dividing the entire society along caste, sub caste, creed fault lines, no wonder, there is a societal earthquake daily that destroys much, so much!  

Pratima@ "el tatva Nam"!

To ignore or...

 Remember that story By Aesop? The one about the old man, his son and their donkey? The human beings in this fable are stupider than their poor animal. The moral of the story is that one must absolutely ignore the fools who unnecessarily comment on you for no fault of yours because whatever you may do or do not do, however(well or otherwise) you may do the perceived action, the brainless creeps with truck loads of time and surely nothing else to do(or, may be, they are paid for their 'hard' - in all the senses of the term - work, so it is their piddly little source of any income at all) are forever going to yak away.

What kind of foul fools love to comment on others? What, and how,  must  be their psychopathology? Even Freud, too, would love to avoid them, I suppose. That precisely is the point. What exactly to do to stop their brainless blabber, their mindless blubber?  

In the world today, it is no use being Sant Eknath who bathed back so many times that the person throwing shit at him got finally tired. No, one is not exactly afraid of Corona in the process, but of the capricious cupidity of the cowards! Their cruelty would not know any bounds, especially if harassing is their source of income. 

At times one feels it is necessary to confront them because evil must not be allowed unhindered. The best bet, however, is locating the exact Master(without a)mind, and blasting him/her, however powerfool!

Pratima@Dogs would bark as an elephant passes by. Instead of wasting his energy on the curs, he walks on, while they go mad barking!That used to be the sage advice of Aai-Papa!

Past yet Forever Present

 The day after every major Chaturdashi, that is to say, the Four Major Ones, Ashadhi, Kartiki, Maghi and Chaitri, I used to prepare a Sweet, almost always, gavachi kheer ( a kind of wheat pudding) because Aai used to feel it would be the "parane" (celebrating the day after the fast). I indulged her always as Pandharpur was her 'Maher', and our birthplace, too. Indeed I never ever forget the fact that I was born at "Pandharpur"! That is an aside though. The wheat pudding, moreover, would be a treat to somebody like me, a person with a huge sweet tooth. I think, it reminded Aai of her Aai.

It was with that feel that I prepared the sweet, just a bowlful, today. On such occasions, I experience a curious emotion. One is almost performing a ritual in her memory, and yet I continue to feel that she is still very much there, may be, has just gone out for her singing class/her bhajan meet or, may be, to Raju-Sanju's place.

Yet again then, one is like a child lost at the fair, full of star attractions and yet absolutely lonely. I had once read/told Aai the Premchand story that dealt with this theme, a poor child who initially would want all the goodies in the fair, and when he was lost, his only wish was to be reunited with his parents. I discussed the symbolism in the story, too, how the fair is the world with loveliest attractions, while the final wish would be a reunion with parents, the God figure. 

Memories! Eternal they are. Never leave you alone for a moment. They are both, very much desired, and yet hauntingly hurtful. Life goes on, and yet is a stasis, too! Long live/love the sweet/salt feel, memory!

Pratima@each happiness of yesterday is a memory for today, tomorrow, and forever!

End of an era

 The Small little blog today refers to three events in the course of the day. They are unrelated in a way, and yet they share an unmistakable connect.

The first of these three was the online/offline mixed mode "performance" of a lecture. In a way, it gives "a local habitation and a name" to voices heard/unheard/partially heard, depending on the whims and fancies  of the great internet. Yet the feel of being filmed constantly gives you heebie-jeebies in the complex realities today.

The second one is the end of  the "chatur mas". Prakash Mama sent a lovely photo and a still More beautiful video of Lord Panduranga. Unbelievably ecstatic, the visuals reminded me that with Kartiki Ekadashi would begin the Tulasi Vivah, which ends the avoidance of onions and garlic, a great relief for an average and lazy cook like me. Aai could whip up brilliant, superbly tasty dishes without a slice of onion or a garlic pearl. But lesser mortals of my type-n- variety find great help in the inborn tastes of tomatoes, onions and garlics.

The third One is the passing away of B.M. Purandare. A narrator par excellence, he brought the times of Shivaji Maharaj alive in our times.  Despite scandals and attacks, his contribution is unmistakable and remarkable. 

All these incidents present an end, a completion, and not always unhappy. Meeting at least a few students face to face is a greet feel. Still greater is the mesmerising vision of Vithala, while the likes of  Purandare stand for passion. Meaning making, in brief!

Pratima@passion maketh perfection!

Children's Day:Lessons worth Learning

 November 14 in my opinion is a day when we should awaken yet again the lost Child in all of us. The obvious question then that emerges is what exactly is being a child. Clean curiosity, not the one that killed the cat, of course, is what the prime time called childhood allows us. As children are looking at the whole world with fresh eyes, they are most eager to know everything, they are ready to make mistakes in the process without any fear of failure or any sense of shame. To maintain that innocent, that is, free of any criminal/negative associations, curiosity in adulthood is the best step forward towards creativity.

Creativity is the only rulebook children know. Their thoughts, ideas, concepts are afresh with novelty. Absolutely nothing is jaded about them, neither the body, nor the mind, nor the soul. Hence all children are geniuses, though very few can carry that unique, special something in to the later life.

Similarly, children are so busy being and becoming that they have no time for being jealous, mean, nasty, cheap, and the list can go on infinitely. The very company of a child is hence such an energizing tonic that the whole real world cannot enfeeble you.

Yet another trait one must borrow from childhood is joy. They are eternally happy and joyful, forever bubbling with smiles and laughter. Softer than the silken touch is this gentle joy of theirs bursting from every pore of their being.

Their ability to love endlessly is infinite. A pet dog would be the only competitor they may have in this aspect. The parental ill-treatment, too, cannot coarsen them. They continue to be eternally affectionate, loving, and completely credulous. 

Nothing in this world is as totally elevating an experience as a child holding your finger in his small fist or a child fast asleep, nestling his neck against your shoulder,  with a total sense of security. That gentle touch, that unique body fragrance, that sudden angelic smile for no rhyme nor reason, that is heaven on earth.

Such panegyrics, absolutely deserved, can go on and on. Today is yet another reminder, an urgent wake-up call that these superb traits should continue lifelong. 

Pratima@child is indeed the father of man

Vicious Streaks

 In one's life, often one comes across people who are unnecessarily vicious. One would not have bothered them in any way at all. Yet they consciously choose to target one. They have a vicious streak, and sure it is  full of vicious tricks.

How to deal with such persona? The best alternative is to avoid them like the  Corona virus itself. Like it, they, too, are invisible, and hyper dangerous. Unlike the poor Corona virus, they are a gang, the mafiosi who love indulging in groupism. Eternally busy with scratching each other's back, they know within themselves that One needs to is alienated, and consciously. 

Why should though one be thus alienated at all? If they think of themselves as if they were the O'Brien of Orwell's '1894', the best way is to get away from their crushing of others viciously. I suppose, caring for your dreams that were nurtured by you and your loved ones would light up the path forever. Well, for the peace of one's own self, better to forget them forever, though the very goodness embedded in a balanced universe would see to it in its own just way that even they themselves would not be able to forgive themselves!Amen!

Pratima@ A person knowingly behaving viciously with one is actually howling that one shares the bottomless sadness within that vicious person!

Existence Explored

 Literature has always been a space that makes one's point of view truly spacious and deletes all that is specious in us or ours. Even in that inherently generous and palliative context, there are certain authors, reading whom is not merely a joy. It is indeed an education.

The opening up of our consciousness and conscience by their writings need not always be goody-goody and optimistic and/or positive. Instead, certain authors' deep texts rush us to the very brink of a chasm that has no bottom at all. Such a read is always an eye-opener. The Russian author, Fyodr Dostoevsky, whose bicentenary falls on November 11, is one such genius reading whom is indeed an exploration of the very existence.

His dark novels, which reflect in a way his own extremely difficult days lifelong, show up the reality, warts and all. A great realist, both stylistically as well as psychologically, he indeed would be the first author to depict the wounded selves and the fractured realities. He shows us the flip side of existence.  Very local and yet truly universal he was!

In his own times, his was a very modern thinking that critiqued the traditional Euro- mania, the obsession with the "progressive" Europe of the big and mighty of his times. Instead, he chose to deify the real folk Russian-ness. Though his move might now be dismissed as "deshivad", as " nativism", in his times, it was a radical, modernising critique of the status quo. Dostoevsky is, in brief, a deeply unsettling, but richly rewarding author. 

Let us end this tribute to him with a few of his quotes: Hell for him is the "inability to love", a plight our self obsessed times would easily relate to. " Man only counts," he writes in a very knowing way,"his misfortunes, never his happinesses." True indeed! No wonder, he felt, "to go wrong in one's way", the swadharma followed in a non-religious way so to say, " is better than to go right in someone else's".  

Pratima@at such times, I thank Aai-Papa from the bottom of my heart for not blasting my fascination with Literature!

Education, ahoy!

 The moment we think of a day related to education, we think of either the Guru Poornima or September 5, the day dedicated to teachers. Actually, today, too, is a very important day in the educational field. Wonder why? Let me explain, and in some detail.

Actually today happens to be the National Education Day of India. It is celebrated in the memory of independent India's first Education Minister, Maulana Abdul Kalam Azad.  It is indeed very interesting to note that, of the three days related to education, two are tributes to two towering personalities. 

Education is indeed a vision that broadens our perspectives. Education teaches us how to develop a "thought-full" mindset of our very own. Such a thinking mind is not swayed by any conflicting ideologies. Such a mind, moreover, has a calibrating power that can see through all sorts of pretensions, lies and chicaneries. In the  much advertised/debated/discussed Post Truth World today, such a capacity is absolutely essential for the sanity of the very society.

Education, in brief, is not a degree. Neither is it a set syllabus that helps you acquire a given skill set. It is a way that makes us self reflexive about our own thought patterns, our own models of action, our very own modes and/or philosophies of life, or the lack thereof. A truly educated mind, hence, would never be opinionated, partial, hateful, demonising any contrarian idea(s). We have indeed a very long way to go in that direction. Hence the more days assigned to education, the meatier and the mightier, and as a result, the merrier!

Pratima@lead me from darkness to light, from untruth to truth, and from mortality to the immortal.

To teach or not to teach? Online!

 To teach or not to teach, that is not the question. In fact, the real problem is whether they learn or do not learn. That is because all the teaching/learning is yet online. The real question hence is to teach or not to teach, online! 

Who is afraid of offline teaching? Actually, every stakeholder in the academic context is now  bored to tears. Teachers are tired of teaching to faceless screens. Students miss the much dreaded peer pressure, actually the peer(less) fun! Parents would be happy to have the brat  making life  hell, away from the home-n-hearth, at least for sometime! Advantages of the claustrophobic feel, such as the MCQ exam granting geniusdom(dumb, actually) to one and all, and that, too, without any hard work, are much, much fewer!

The real problem is that everything else, being revenue (re)sources, is (out in the) open. Education, the poor relative ever, since the days of Dronacharya, for instance, continues to be the (experi)mental(!!?!!) ground. Conveniently, moreover, one can continue to call the acharya all sorts of names, too!

Cast (note the spelling please, before beginning some, often timepass, protest!) on the computer mode/mad(e), online teaching/learning has already lost the glitz-n-shine of e-lectr(on)ic excuses that valiantly bore the brunt of every absence. One could wake up late, for instance,and, while lolling in the bed, call the lecture a drone while enjoying hot tea/coffee all along. The internet connection could conveniently evaporate into thin air the moment the teacher asked an inconvenient question, for instance.

No loss, no gain though! If Diwali ends with the usual fanfare, can offline lectures be far behind?🤣

Pratima@no offline education, no fun!

State of Spirituality

 Poignantly remembered Aai-Papa yet again today. Well, I was reading up on Uttarakhand, the youngest(am not sure though) state in India. It is known for its pristine beauty, what with the Valley of  Flowers and most all perfect peaks of the  Himalayan range. 

For Aai-Papa, it was "devbhumi", too. Neither of them was a fanatically religious person. Yet, they were after all an upper middle class Brahmin couple of the erstwhile generation. They were hence spiritual and devout enough to like  the " devbhumi" aspect as well. Both of them went on the Chardham Yatra, the sacred pilgrimage in the lap of the Himalayas. Both loved the experience. Both would share titbits of these spiritually charged experiences.

Aai used to feel elated whenever I showed her gorgeous pics of or some documentary on the Kedarnath Mandir. She would share the "kandi" experience. She loved the clean sparkle and the natural music of the Ganges and its tributaries there.  She would talk of the Pandavas' journey to the "param dham", the ultimate destination, there. In her opinion, the scenario near Kedarnath was such that the possibility seemed absolutely real. Indeed, I have already written of how both felt the actual presence of Shiva there.

She was absolutely  unhappy to hear of the floods, and she could visualise the huge boulder that saved the Temple. She often talked of the grand " nandi" there. Both of them were aware of Shankaracharya's great contribution. Why, after his Chardham Yatra, Papa actually visited Kaladi in Kerala where the great sage was born.

Well, the Mandir (I drew it as a greeting card to celebrate her wonderful journey, while during his journey there, I wrote him letters that surprised him with their accuracy because they used to be there waiting for him) would eternally be there; whatever impairment it must have suffered due to the natural disaster would get re-built. Neither Aai nor Papa would again be there though to discuss the "punya bhumi"! Oh, the Himalayan loss to me!

Pratima@spiritual is beyond the religious.

Cassandra Cries

 During the Diwali, did you notice something? Actually, these days, it is a usual phenomenon, but one tends to notice it more during the festival. Wonder what I am referring to? Well, have you, too, noticed that these days, both in the public spaces and in the private spheres, there is a lot of goody-goody talk, but that is just the veneer, all gloss and no substance, just scratch a little and the entire rot is visible in the worst possible ways, and the ugliest details!

My submission today is that wor(l)ds are getting showoffs. People are living in mirror houses wherein they see and/or want to see infinite reflections and refractions of the self  through mirrors that are both convex and concave while being flat.

Even the so-called feel-good stories circulating ad infinitum on the social media are pogroms of one variety or the other. There is so much of demonization of the "other" , be it persons or ideologies, or whatever, that one wonders if most all people crave to live in echo chambers! A "differ-ence" is always 'deferred' because NOBODY, however much they pretend to be otherwise, is interested in "listening " , especially to a contrary opinion.

Mock, for example, of the most cruel, vicious, mean variety, most often carried out systematically, is being posed as 'fun'. In my opinion, all such varieties of narcissism are getting center staged because relationships are rotting under the garb of bonhomie. Relationships hence are fragile and febrile,and moribund as a result. Such relationship retardation is creating a society at the tether, not together; a society that is anti-social! Something is indeed rotten in the 'state' (in all senses of the term, psychological, political, financial, academic, name it and you have it), to quote the Prince of Denmark!

Pratima@endless are Cassandra cries!

Awareness is All

 Now that the Diwali festival is over, we better get back to the mundane and rather rude reality. Undoubtedly, personally, the festival this year was  tragic for me, and our family, as Aai sadly succumbed to a heart attack in March, 2021.

Overall though, fervor was the feel of the festival as feelings fizz(l)ed out, bottled up as they were since March,  2020. Here is keeping fingers crossed while hoping that the dreaded disease does not stage a vicious comeback in the form of a feared third wave!

Why think of diseases post-Diwali? Is that your question? Well, there is a reason behind my attempt. Let me try and explain it. November 7 marks the birth anniversary of Marie Curie, one of my childhood heroines. Almost a century ago, despite every possible setback/handicap, and what have you, this two time Nobel Prize Winner in two different disciplines invented radium and polonium. This mother of the radioactive procedure was the ultimate saviour for millions of cancer patients whose number seems to increase by the day even in developing countries.

In a country like ours, for example, life style generated cancers affect citizens from all the societal strata. Let us take the example of smoking. In rural and/or poverty stricken citizenry, the habit of smoking with the burning tip of the bidi in the mouth is pretty common. It is as harmful as the triple five brand chain smoking. Drinks and/or doing drugs is yet another horrible habit common across age, sex, region, religion,language, class, creed kind of barriers. As a result, mouth, lung and stomach cancers are rampant in India.

Marie Curie showed us humane ways to overcome such human failings that lead to a kind of autoimmune rebellion by the body against the self. Here is wishing such truly dreadful habits die, and every patient survives with Dignity and Hope intact.

Pratima@no glass barriers can cage a genius!

Bhaubeej Special

 If any one particular festival were to represent all of  Aai's unique qualities, it had to be Bhaubeej. The morning would begin with the lovely and auspicious shehnai renditions by Bismilla Khan. She would play that L.P. record every Diwali day, and she was rather proud of the fact that Lane Number 12, Mukund Nagar would wake up with that shehanai, played softly but surely.

Next, she would draw superb rangolis. Her designs used to be unique. Once, for example, she had drawn Vithoba, and the depiction was perfect. Why, she could draw rangoli patterns on water! 

Breakfast of all her Diwali specials (superb used to be her kadboli's, chaklya and Shankarpali's, all the extremely  tough to prepare kind of items, but she was a very good cook, anyways), she would begin the Bhaubeej special dishes. It used to be the perfect preparation, with all the salads, lemon slice, pickles, papad, kurdaya, bhajji, special potato veggie, masale bhat, unique amti, all perfectly served the right way in the dish. Hyper tasty the preparations used to be, given her special masala. As the Chaturmas would not yet be over, she would use neither onion nor garlic, and yet manage to create wonders.

Superb would be the main dish. As it used to be the last day of Diwali, all the difficult dishes would fall to her lot. She did not mind preparing pakatale chirote, puran poli and gulab jamun, jilabi-mattha type of tough dishes for thirty odd people. It was for her labour of love. Aai-Papa loved to serve with heart felt agrah. There would be a special pangat for children, and the second one for the elders, both full of laughter and mirth. It would be almost three-ish by the time her pangat with one or two Mami's would begin.

All along, Papa and Mama's would play 'bridge', while children would be up to all sorts of games in the front and the back yard. Her special lemon grass and ginger tea along with the Diwali special faral over, girls would begin getting ready. 

Our bedroom would turn in to a make up, vanity room. Our Jimmy, crackers terrorised, would be hiding under the bed. His huge, curvy tail would get trampled on, but he would not yelp, forget his usual growl. After an hour or so, all the cousins would emerge real decked up, like the beauties in a pageant.

Aai and Mami's would get a few minutes to get ready. Aai loved wearing her trademark nath, her favourite item of jewellery. The ceremony would continue for hours with tremendous revellery. 

The crackers bursting later with Arun Mama special distribution, the day would thus get over at about ten, but the memories would linger on. Like they do now, and forever. Let me end with "Ah, to face Bhaubeej again, but without her/Now that Diwali is here", a take on Browning's Celebration of the unique British summer that would always return, but never Aai!

Pratima@ Bhaubeej is Aai, Aai is Bhaubeej!

Focus Makes!

 Today is the Padva. As the myth lets us know, the batu-avatar "Vamana" of Vishnu cut to size the mighty king. Why did it happen? I suppose, that was because King Bali's  focus shifted. For him, it was not enough to be a good king much loved by his citizenry. Much more important was to control the whole world, and still more important for him was his jealousy, his envy, his desire to belittle those who had not harmed him in any way.

Indeed that always is the case. The moment our focus shifts, the moment we waver from our life goals, our values, given our desire to destroy some one else, we dig a pit for ourselves, in which we fall, and thus fail, in the final analysis, ourselves. 

Focus matters in relationships, too. If in a marriage, for example, the desire  to control the partner becomes much more dominant, rather than the togetherness as a couple, as a pair, the marriage is finished, and what becomes much more important is the contest by the second to belittle, to humiliate, to finish off  the other. Actually in such a process, the belittler is belittled, is finished off.

In other words, focus makes, while the lack thereof, mars, in each and every field, be it sports, be it academics, be it creativity. Hence on this auspicious day, let us pledge to ourselves to never allow our focus to shift. Thus can we predict,  and over-rid(e), all sorts of tsunamis, personal and/or professional.

Pratima @focus forms fecundity

The Real Wealth

 On the Laxmi Poojan day, it is indeed a valid question to ask. What is wealth? Is it the show of money mean(ingless)ness as exhibited in abundance? Not really, in my opinion.

Creativity, I think, is the real wealth. During the festive season, it is abundantly visible in rangoli patterns. What a riot of designs, formations, colours, flower petals, with a diya in the centre to complete the feel! During Diwali, such an abundance of creative wealth is visible in paper lanterns as well. They literally compete with the lovely stars and the attractive fireworks up there in the sky.

Love, in my opinion, however is the real wealth. Neither death nor distance diminishes it. It continues as ever.

It includes the affection of our pets, especially dogs, I would say. What do we do for a dog? Not much except give him food bits. Many owners are soon irritated with the responsibility. Never does the dog disown the master though. He continues to love the very household.

Our pet's love for us keeps us in extremely elevated company such as Ulysses. When Ulysses returned to Ithaca, adventures battered and weather beaten, nobody could recognise him. Neither did Penelope who had to put up all sorts of ruses to remain his. The only two to recognise the real Ulysses, hidden beneath the shabby exterior, were his dog and his mother substitute, his nanny. The real sources of true love!

Pratima@genuine love is the real wealth!

Feel like home

 The Diwali special  ambience that makes everybody "feel like home" has clouded yet another centrally important issue. Recently, on October 31 to be precise, was celebrated the "World City Day", indeed a very important event. 

Indeed, after the LPG (liberalisation, privatisation, globalisation) settled in, across the world, the mo(ve)ment of/to/for/by the cities became the dominant paradigm. Throughout the world, the process of urbanisation became the focal point. Cities started floating like giant octopuses, spreading their tentacles in all possible directions. This spread was not merely horizontal; it was vertical, too. Despite 9/11, skyscrapers, competing with each other height wise, are the norm in big cities, surely in the metros.

Are cities good or bad? Sure they are ugly, despite the posh glory, and we do not need any  T.S. Eliot or his Avatar/the reincarnation in Marathi  or the IWE literature to hold a mirror to that reality. Cities, moreover, may give one food to live, but take away life. People live like an automaton in a big City. There is a set mechanical routine to this life far away from 'nature' in all the senses of this term.

More than anything, however, cities make the very feel of life common, that is both ordinary and 'common', lacking any individuality. Precedes and/or follows the MacDonald-isation and Americanisation of life. The eyesore look of the place, its rusty, rotting smell, cities can cause claustrophobia. No wonder, the crime rate is very high in cities.

Sure, cities have their own appeal. Centres of trade and tourism, these melting pots help the common man overcome caste identities, for instance. Very professional in nature, they respect calibre  than class or caste . Along with the city come up satellite towns, shanti towns, ghettoes that remain interlinked and interdependent in interesting ways.

A city state like Singapore, literally re-emerging in unique ways per annum, shows what cities can achieve 'system'atically . Such an example,sure rare, proves the rule. Yet, despite all its problems, city life undoubtedly has a charm of its own.

Cities hence are like the classic proverbial sense of holding a cobra. Hold it, it will bite you; release it, it will run amok. It needs a truly special treatment, be it of drainage, pollution, water management, name it, you would have it. A necessary evil, in brief,‌ cities, and citizens, too, need a unique identity to 'feel like home'!

Pratima@earth has not any other 'fare' thus to share (with apologies to Wordsworth)

Health is wealth

 Want proof of how lazy misunderstanding and consumerist razzmatazz and shenanigans delude the common man? Have a look at Dhanteras.

Most all Diwali wishes for the day consisted of forwarding a gold coin or a gold plate that had Devi Laxmi as the superscripted icon. There were jewellery shop adverts enticing us with unbelievably lovely jewellery. So the perception created is that today is the special occasion to go on a buying spree as far as gold goes! Sure the ads, rather creative, would make us believe that the New Normal has made the  sky rocketing gold prices nosedive. Nothing could be farther from the truth.

I am talking not of the gold rate, please. Rather I am talking of the significance of the day. It is a day dedicated to Dhanwantari, the God of medicine, the Lord of Ayurveda. It is a reminder, much needed in our stressed out times, that health is the real wealth. 

On this day, traditionally a dia/an earthen lamp is lighted that is facing the south, the direction traditionally associated with Lord Yama, the deity of death. The faith behind this tradition is that this ritual saves the family from any untimely death.

Actually, I would say, it is the day when we should gratefully remember and salute our doctors, and other health warriors. During the pandemic, they made our lives tolerable. Even otherwise, doctors, especially geriatric specialists, and paramedics make the lives of senior citizens rather tolerable.

Here is thanking doctors (of all pathies, please)! In holistic medicine, Health is wealth. LONG Live Dhanteras!!!

Pratima @ health is indeed wealth

The Diwali Days

 Though the core days of the festival are yet to begin, Diwali is here. It was the Wasu-baras today. It is the day the cow and her calf are worshipped.

In my opinion, such a beginning of the festival is proof of its agrarian roots. With the kharip crop ready for winnowing, it is the time to express gratitude for the animal that is a farmer's best friend. Like the coconut tree, everything about a cow is helpful for a common farmer/villager. It is apparently proved scientifically that the cow milk is better content wise, and not only for the babies or the aged.

Beyond such utilitarian concerns, ancient or modern, I like the cow for her eyes. They are large, they are lustrous. But so are the eyes of a deer. In fact, thus are described the so called beautiful eyes in literature. In fact, the deer eyes, like a cow's, are innocent, too. 

But there is something unique about a cow's eyes. They have a very kind look. A cow's eyes are gentle beyond words. There is a kind of wise feel, a kind of genuine acceptance in/to a cow's eyes. The only other eyes that can come  closest to a cow's eyes are the eyes of a mother. Hence the day is a Celebration of motherhood in my opinion. If Padwa is for the couple relations, if bhaubeej is for the sibling relationship, the very first day of Diwali is for the tender Love of a mother.

That was why it was very tough, difficult for me. As it is, festivals always make you acutely aware of your loss. Given the association with motherhood, it was indeed tough for me. Kind gestures such as 'her' relatives sharing Diwali goodies makes you deeply feel your orphaned status. Whatever may be your age, the loss of parents is poignant. It is the only relationship in this vast, complex and often meaningless maze called life that can never ever be duplicated. Nor can 'that' love be ever 're-produced'!

Life goes on, it has to, for sure! The memory starts congealing in to a tender scab that, if worried just a little, can bleed, and badly. Thus Diwali's would come, but the tender grace of a kind look, that liked you despite all your faults and foibles, will never light up! That is the tragedy embedded in the Diwali feel this year.

Pratima@ millions of stars light up the sky/missing forever is my parents', my Aai's eye!